


Banana-Peanut Butter Ice Cream

by PinkRangerV



Series: Ice Cream Series [1]
Category: Power Rangers Megaforce
Genre: AU, Angst, F/F, F/M, Lesbian Relationship, Nice Guys, One Shot, POV Second Person, Sexism, Unwanted relationships, teenagers being stupid, unintentional bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 02:11:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkRangerV/pseuds/PinkRangerV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>_Banana is your favorite flavor, but then your brain registers the peanut butter. It's just...strange. I don't like this, your mind says, why does it taste like something I should?_</p><p>Gia made a choice. It wasn't one she wanted. It just was the only one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Banana-Peanut Butter Ice Cream

**Author's Note:**

> IndigoMay and I were talking about Gia\Emma, which is my new OTP because holy cow I haven't seen a relationship work this well since I caught an episode of Xena last week. Gia and Emma just *fit*. So of course Saban, being the Heteronormative Show Of No Gays, decided to make Jake the next Joel.
> 
> So I decided to explore that, and since I'm also an English major, explore how our society can turn genuine and positive emotions into something that creates a monster.
> 
> This will probably be a trigger warning for anyone who's had a stalker.

Jake's parents aren't home.

It's stupid to feel a jolt of dread and fear at that. You knew they'd be gone. Jake's a bad liar; when he wants something he might as well wear it on his sleeve. This is a parentless study date. That's why it took him so long to coax you into it.

You pull into the driveway, pause to check your hair, and go up to the door.

Jake lights up like a Christmas tree when he sees you, and you can't help but smile. Your boyfriend is so sweet. “Gia! Gia, come in...”

He bundles you inside and takes your coat, and while you open your books, he's attentive, more so than usual, to what you say. His conversation is awkward and stilted, but there's a strangely honest quality to it. He watches you, hungry but unwilling to ask.

When he offers you ice cream you accept, and you see he made banana-peanut butter. You taste it. Banana is your favorite flavor, but then your brain registers the peanut butter. It's just...strange. _I don't like this,_ your mind says, _why does it taste like something I should?_

“How is it?” Jake asks.

“Great.” You lie. “It was sweet to make something for me.”

Jake grins sheepishly. “Anything for you.” That had a strangely intense quality to it, that sentence, and it's left hanging awkwardly. A lot of your conversations end that way.

You end the silence by drawing him back to the math problem at hand. He tries to pay attention, but he's not good at at that, and plays with his soccer ball the whole time. You know he's had enough, but you continue. He's listening. Really. It's a study date. You're here to study. He just likes playing with things.

“Hey, Gia.” Jake looks up and there's this light in his eyes, mischief and sensuality and lust all in one gaze. “I'm bored. Wanna watch a movie?”

You can still taste the ice cream on your tongue.

“Sure.”

 

* * *

 

When you went to the Environmentalist Club for the first time, back in freshman year, you saw an angel.

She was an angel in pink, who stepped up to the center of the group and spoke as if giving the word of a god about the duty every human being had to both the world around them and the people living on it. There was pain in the world and she never denied that, but instead held it up to say that this was the problem that must be faced, and there _was_ a solution.

And the angel brought you grace. She was right; this was your duty and birthright as a member of this generation, to bring hope to the world. You were only fifteen, but your angel had given you purpose. You would follow her to the end of the Earth.

And then the other high schoolers, who had only come to the club because a pretty girl asked them to, snickered and laughed, and asked when they'd get to smoke the weed, and suggested holding a Strip Club instead.

The angel saw her work ruined and stormed out. You followed. You held her and dried the flood of tears. “Thanks.” The angel said when the tears had dried.

“I'm Gia.” You offered.

“..Emma.”

“So,” You asked with a smile, because you'd be damned if you let some asshole boys wreck Emma's dreams, “What you were talking about earlier...”

Her face fell.

“Where do we start?”

She lit up like a tree.

You followed her to every rally and convention and as you did you realized that calling her an angel had been sappy and corny, but not far off. Emma lived as a vegan activist not because of fads or self-righteousness, but because it was right. What was ethical ruled her. Even her photography, the passionate art she devoted herself to, was another tool to speak out, to help those who needed it.

And then she fell in love.

It crushed you. You didn't know why because you didn't know you were in love. But Emma fell in love with a boy who was a senior and the worst part was that you had nothing to be jealous _of_ , he was every girl's dream boyfriend, sweet and attentive and kind.

That was how you realized you were lesbian.

Emma saw the pain, but you never told her. This made her happy. You would not ruin it for her, not because you thought she could never love you or because of some warped idea that self-sacrifice would bring her back, but because you _did_ love her. Even if you had no idea how biology worked and that she probably couldn't love you anyway, you'd have kept your mouth shut.

She was happy, and that was what mattered.

But the romance was only for a summer. The boy left in the fall, and Emma cried and moved on, and one day she admitted to you she was bi. And you admitted you were lesbian.

It was like a pact.

You'd kissed a few times, but you were never officially a couple, because you'd _always_ been a couple. Being in love with Emma was _right_ , and she told you that being in love with you was _right_ , and you two could spend hours curled up watching movies or shopping or reading to each other or doing _anything_ , because you fit like gloves. She was your sky and you were her earth.

You are soulmates. And you would ask for nothing else.

 

* * *

 

Jake presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is cautious, but when you let him in, intense, passionate. Rough. He reaches up to hold you and then gently lays you down on the sofa.

You kiss back automatically. You've never gotten the hang of this. You and Jake have been dating for nearly a month, but it's just...wrong. With Emma, passion taught you skill, but now you just sort of endure.

You wonder, in your most bitter moments, how he doesn't see it.

His hands roam, and that's not entirely new. He seems to almost have a map in his mind: _First base, check, second base, check, third base...working on it..._ You've tried to teach him gentleness, but he still gropes and paws awkwardly at you, uncomfortably rough, especially if he forgets. You let your own hands roam as well, trying, desperately, for some amount of arousal. Anything. Anything to numb the pure _wrong_ of this.

To give your body away like this is disgusting. It leaves you feeling sick and a little afraid, because your mind knows on an instinctual level to fear any situation where you have to give something so personal away. But you are more than your emotions, you are Gia and you refuse to let your own pain endanger the Earth.

His hand touches a bruise on your breast, and you gasp. He mistakes that for pleasure and squeezes again, rougher.

You cannot find your voice to tell him to stop.

Your hands roam again, hopelessly going along, because if there is nothing else then what else can you do, and part of you is still praying for something to dull this. It's not fun without the hormones; it's actually anything but.

Part of you wonders what would happen if you said stop. If you told him, like you have before, that you want to wait until marriage. Except you _have_ told him before, weeks ago. He nodded and said he understood, then coaxed and wheeled until you were out of options, and to bring it up now would let loose the dam, and you would just flat-out tell him you're a lesbian and in love with Emma.

And then it would shatter the team.

Noah and Troy would blame you, not understanding why you're so cold, why you can't just give him a try, words they said a thousand times. Emma would take your side, relieved and thrilled to have you again.

The Megaforce Rangers are the only thing standing between the bugs and Earth. If Jake's infatuation jeopardizes that, you have no other choice.

You let him take you.

 

* * *

 

It happened before you started dating Jake.

You were still only watching him, trying to decide what to do, but a battle had come up. You'd all been able to get out instantly, which in your life was a minor miracle. Troy was even playing leader today.

 _“Gia, Jake, I need backup here!”_ Leader didn't mean invincible, though.

“Okay, on it. Jake--”

_“Hey, Gia, watch this!”_

You were about ready to kill him before you even turned. Sure enough, there he was, trying to take on an entire team of Loogies singlehandedly.

With civilians behind him.

If it had just been him, well, fine; if your teammates knew they were being stupid, you would stand back, watch, and raise your eyebrow when they picked themselves up off the ground. That was also why they tended to listen to you about things like training or doing homework. But when civilians were involved it wasn't a smack upside the head anymore, it was dangerous.

You rapped out an order for Noah to back Troy up and went after Jake and discovered that the Loogies had gotten _smarter_ , because they were already beating the crap out of Jake, but once they saw you stopped and held him up with a hand on his neck.

Their friends were creeping up on the civilians.

Your Tiger Claw just wasn't accurate enough, you'd kill Jake along with the Loogies. Your blaster was a bat's prayer in hell. You didn't have time for another card or Gosei's instructions or the split-second battle between body and mind that came with new instincts.

The Loogies were almost at the civilians.

You drew your blaster and fired and it _worked_. It never should have but thank God it worked. Jake fell and you blasted the other Loogies and your heart was racing.

_“Gia! You saved--”_

“You almost got yourself killed!” You should have waited to yell at him, but you were too scared, too furious. “Jacob Schmidt you hear me now, if you _ever_ do _anything_ like that again I swear I will kick your ass myself, do you hear me?”

He just stared.

“Troy needs backup. Now mo--”

_“...No. I don't.”_

You turned.

While Jake had been busy trying to impress you, Noah had tried to help Troy. Except that the civilians Troy had been defending, a mother and her daughter separated from Jake's group, were laying on the ground.

In pieces.

 

* * *

 

Jake closes his bedroom door and turns to look at you.

You want to shy away. It feels as if you're already naked in this stinking, messy room; as if Jake shines a light onto your soul and watches it with that mixture of love and lust in his eyes.

He crosses the room in a few steps and kisses you as if he wants to devour you alive.

You make a sound of terror and disgust. Jake pauses, pulling back. “Did I..?”

He's so concerned for you, your boyfriend. “No.”

He returns to what he was doing.

Pawing, groping, he tears at your clothes, actually tears your shirt. He's so rough. You try to pull off his clothes gently, show him, lead by example—don't those movies always claim it works?--but he ignores you and pushes you down on the bed.

You don't reach for him anymore because you just can't think through the disgust and terror as he strips away the clothes you both wear, leaving you both naked. You can't whisper stop because he wouldn't hear it anyway, and because you would only be where you are again in a week.

But the desperation triggers something else in your mind. You remember your strength. Quietly you feel it as a warm, Yellow glow. You have given up your body, yes; but you have a reason. This is something you _must_ do.

 _Earth will survive_.

If that means you give your body away...well, women gave themselves away in marriage as routine once upon a time. If it means you endure pawing hands, then you simply remember that this is the boy who must be able to shoot Loogies off your back while you defeat monsters. No matter what it takes, when you took that morpher you meant it.

Earth comes first.

He tries, fumbling, to unwrap a condom two sizes too large. You shake your head and pull out one you brought. You're on the pill, but you don't want accidents. A child should have a real family. Anyway, you had to bring lube to begin with, there's nothing arousing in this and you want it to hurt as little as possible.

“Aren't you a vir...” Jake starts, laughing, but then sees it in your eyes. “Oh.” Jake looks touched, honestly touched, and reaches up to brush your golden hair away from your eyes.

You kiss him. You're not praying, you've never prayed before—God stays out of people's lives—but in a way you are, because you just want this not to hurt. Arousal will help. You _know_ it will help.

Please.

He unrolls the condom with trembling hands, and reaches inside of you. A finger feels huge, and part of you is wondering how the hell anything _bigger_ can fit, but he kisses you and paws you again so you aren't thinking about it when there's a sudden shoving pain.

It hurts.

 

* * *

 

Your initial impression of Jake was that he was harmlessly obnoxious. You dropped a few hints you were taken and tried your best to maintain your distance. It was a struggle, since it was hard to tell what was Jake trying to be friendly versus him trying to be flirty, but you managed.

On the battlefield, Jake was a godsend. You have the knack of leadership, and leadership's curse; you just cannot for the life of you _not_ give an order, especially when you're just learning how to work with something. It's caused more than one problem between you and Emma before. If the two of you fought side-by-side you'd be ready to kill each other in a minute. It's bad strategy, but for the first few battles you've got enough to worry about learning how to use these Power-based instincts and Zords, and to be honest you guys are fine anyway. In an ideal world you'd pair an Earth with an Air just to cover all the bases, but this is reality, and what works works.

So of course Jake took that as encouragement.

You got sharper. You were _not interested_ , and you'd dropped _more_ than enough hints by now to make that point, so if Jake could kindly fuck off and leave you alone, that would be much appreciated. But Jake kept coming back, and it was...

...Unwanted.

You had other things to worry about. You gave up and just made the pointed remarks required, because Troy was like a cat without a bell, and Gosei was useless. (Even if he hadn't been, you personally had your suspicions about someone who asked teenagers to save the world instead of Mossad agents or Marines. And who made their own _face_ into a morpher? Let alone those ridiculous cards that served no purpose in battle besides leaving your team without any way to access weaponry without Gosei...) The team needed you. You built bridges. Team movies; introducing Troy to Ernie's; introducing Noah to Troy's extensive library of conspiracy-theory favorites in literature and movies; introducing Jake to your dojo.

And one day when you were running with Troy, he asked, “So why don't you just go out with him already?”

“...Who?” He could _not_ mean Jake.

“Jake.” Yeah, you needed to re-assess your opinion of the man who claimed Zords ran on 'courage and hope'. Or at least of his intelligence. “He loves you, you know, and you're so cold.” Troy added with a disapproving look. “He spends all his time hanging on your every word, and you barely give him the time of day. Don't you think by now you at least owe him a date?”

There was something just _wrong_ about that concept, but you couldn't put your finger on what. “I...I like Emma.”

You'd reached the end of your run, and Troy stopped and started stretching. “You and Emma aren't together, are you?” You and Emma had come out to the team, but they didn't quite seem to get it. Noah had blinked and asked Emma if she was 'half gay'.

“Well...not really...I mean...” You just couldn't put your finger on what was _wrong_ here. You knew something was, but you couldn't find it.

“So look.” Troy switched to his other side. “I'm not saying you have to like him or something. But the guy looks like a kicked puppy half the time. Just try. Please?”

You shook your head. No. This was crazy. “Troy, listen. I like Emma. Not Jake. Emma.”

Troy hesitated. “Yeah...I guess.” _Thank you. We are not having this conversation again_. “But really, it's messing with him. I think he wants to quit being a Ranger half the time. Just...be nicer? For me?”

“...I'll keep an eye on him.” You promised.

You did. You didn't approve of Gosei's decision to make teenagers Rangers, but it was already a done deal. Losing the Black Ranger meant losing an entire fifth of the team. And worse, you were starting to read the warning signs in Jake; his inability to hear 'no', the way he was always mysteriously around, how he intruded even if you wanted to be alone.

He would not understand what no meant.

You'd dealt with boys like this before. The first one, you'd tried to stay friends with, because everyone told you to just be nice, who knew, maybe he was really a nice guy after all. He'd decided you secretly loved him and started stalking you. It took a restraining order to make him go away. After that you learned that the only way to protect yourself was to completely cut a boy who couldn't hear 'no' out of your life. You didn't talk to them, didn't see them, pretended they didn't exist. And if you did that to Jake, Noah and Troy would be on his side automatically. They asked, sometimes, concerned. _“Why are you so mean to Jake? Don't you know he loves you?” “Look, maybe you should just, I don't know, try it out with Jake, I mean, he really cares...” “Hey, come on, lighten up on Jake, okay? He's trying his hardest, and it's all for you.”_

You'd spent a month and a half building this team from the ground up. You'd connected them and trained with them and laughed with them. And, worse, you know that the Megaforce Rangers are the _only_ thing standing between Earth and an alien invasion.

So you took Jake aside, sat him down, and did your best to explain. It wasn't him, it was you; you just weren't interested; it wasn't about him and you really did--

“Gia, it's okay!”

You were taken aback by the laugh in his voice. Had he heard anything you'd said? “...Really?” _Please dear God say you're a Ranger and you know you can't have a relationship because you're too busy..._

“Yeah.” Jake said with a shining smile, an awkward boyish thing that some girl someday would love. “I love you too.”

You just stared. You almost couldn't understand. “No. Jake. Listen. I _don't_ love you. That's what I'm trying to tell you.”

Jake hesitated, then took your hands in his. “Look. I get it. You thought you were lesbian. But the guys told me you were trying to be nicer, and I asked Emma, and I...” Jake met your eyes. “Gia, I know it's hard for you to admit you're in love. So I won't ask you to. I know you love me.”

You opened your mouth to tell him no, that's it, you're leaving and you're done. But then you stopped.

What had you been about to _do_? What _could_ you do? Shun him? He saw you every day in school and on the battlefield. And through the month and a half you'd spent leading this team, you'd learned one thing: You were only as strong as your friendships.

If you kicked him off the team you would lose the Black Ranger. If you tried to avoid him he would take it as permission.

So you walked away.

 

* * *

 

The pain is incredible. If this is what sex is like you're glad you and Emma waited, although the mechanics of lesbian sex probably isn't as painful.

Jake takes you roughly and passionately, and with more than a bit of experience despite his ridiculous attempt at impressing you with an oversized condom. You find yourself writhing, trying to get away.

You catch yourself and stop. No. Even unwillingly given, you are more than your reactions. You will not demean yourself.

_What, more than you already have?_

You clench your eyes shut, ignoring the tears of pain, because the voice is right, this is _wrong_ , wrong and humiliating and disgusting and terrifying. You aren't a person, with Jake. You're an object given, given to reward Jake for his persistence, given to stop a child with dangerous toys from destroying the world.

You have no way out.

In your most bitter moments you muse on why this is happening. You've started to see how everyone is spoon-fed the idea of 'persistence' as true love. If your One True Love says no, pfft, she doesn't know you're her One True Love, that's all! Keep going! Don't give up! Be yourself and they're _bound_ to love you! You've seen how stories rely on the prince getting a princess, how if a woman shows up in a story for more than five minutes, it's as good as promising the audience that this is the woman who the main character will fall in love with, even if it's the most illogical pairing possible. You're starting to realize just how many men will shout at you on the street, and how people will call any woman who turns down a date cold or a bitch.

It's starting to scare you, this world you live in.

But you can't _think_ like that. It scares you too much. Jake's a good boy. He loves you, doesn't he? Forget your paranoid theories. He loves you. The pain starts again as you think that. He made you banana-peanut butter ice cream and buys you flowers and carries your books...

Look how long he fought for you. He must love you.

You wonder if you're bleeding. It feels like he's tearing you apart.

Tears come but Jake brushes them away. “Shh. It's okay. It always hurts.”

“Always?” You laugh. “Who else have...” You break off, stifling a moan. It's pain and something else, something wrapping around you. You abandon yourself, again, to sensations. You drown in them.

The pain slowly fades.

You're breathing hard, and you find yourself thrusting against him, but you don't know why or what your body's doing anymore. You're just lost. Jake is enjoying you, moaning and cursing and kissing--

The orgasm takes you like a wave.

You've never felt orgasm without pleasure before. It's bizarre. Your body shudders and your vision goes, and there's a place that your mind travels to...but you're _not_ orgasming. You're just there. Waiting. In pain, physical and emotional, and not even sure what the hell is going on as the lights turn out.

And then it's over.

 

* * *

 

“You're... _cheating_ on me?”

You hated yourself so much, saying this. “Em...Em, no, I'm...I'm just going to be nice is all.” God, it sounded so lame, even to you.

Emma could see right through it. But she knows you. She knows you better than you know yourself. “Gia, what's wrong?” Her eyes went wide. “Oh my god, did you try to come out?”

“No!” You've agreed, both of you. No coming out. Not to anyone except your teammates. Not until college. You just can't afford to get kicked out only a few months away from a diploma. “Emma...” You sighed and leaned against the locker. “I'm being a _bitch_.”

“...Really? I haven't seen it.” Emma looked like the thought had never occurred to her.

“Here I am,” You continued, your voice dull because it was the only way to trap the intensity in it, “With Jake almost falling all over himself, trying to do _anything_ to get my attention, and I can't even give him the time of day--”

“Is this about what Noah and Troy keep saying?” Emma broke in suspiciously. “Because I'm pretty sure they're just stupid.”

You rested your forehead against the locker. “No.”

Emma gave you time. You appreciated that.

“He won't listen.” You admitted. “I sat him down and told him no and he wouldn't listen. The only thing I can do is kick him out of my life.”

“But he's a Ranger...oh.” Emma got it, suddenly. “ _No_.” She said. “No, Gia, that's not right! You don't have to pretend you're in love with someone just to stop the team breaking up!”

“But what if they're _right_?” You burst out, turning and letting your own tear-filled eyes catch hers. “What if I'm just being a bitch? I mean, I just have to humor him, right? And he's trying so hard...he trains and buys me things and does all kinds of stuff!” You're pleading now. “Just...just humoring him. I won't do anything. I promise. Don't...don't I owe him that?”

You're too young, all of you, for this. All Emma can do is shake her head and whisper “No...that's not right. Gia, you shouldn't have to do this.” She doesn't know why and neither do you. Why _are_ you being so mean? Do you have the right to? Why does it feel so wrong to even think that?

“Would you do it?” You whispered. “To keep the world safe?”

Emma looked at the ground.

The bell rang.

“I won't do anything. I promise.”

She didn't look at you.

You reached up, but you couldn't bring yourself to touch her. So you left.

That afternoon you humored Jake and smiled and then, suddenly, he kissed you. And when you said you weren't ready he just shrugged and said okay, you'd take it slow.

When he tried again two days later you stopped arguing.

 

* * *

 

You look at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

You cleaned up. There aren't bruises or injuries; nothing to reflect what just happened. Just your own eyes looking back at you in a pale face.

You want Emma. You want to run to her, so suddenly and intensely it almost hurts. But you can't. Not like this. You're soiled and unclean, and you feel filthy, filthy inside. You feel like you've sold your soul. Even your own body is stained with Jake, with that orgasm he drew from you.

But you want to run to her.

For a minute your imagination takes over and you have an image, so clear, of you getting in the car and driving away and knocking on her door and collapsing in sobs in her arms. And you know, you have always known, that your angel and soulmate will bring you inside and hold you until the tears are gone and surround you with love and peace.

You banish that. You're impure now; not because of sex but because of what you've let Jake do to you for a month now. You're not worth her. You're not worth anything.

Another image rises to mind.

You and Jake, on your wedding day. You wear a gown of pure white, not the soft golds and pinks you imagined for the wedding you and Emma would have had. Your families are around you cheering, while you repeat the vows with the same dull nothingness all the lies you've given Jake are. And behind Jake, you see Emma, her pain scribed over her icy face as you betray her.

You banish that image too.

You decided, sometime in the past month, what will happen, and how this will end. You are impure and a prize to be thrown to Jake for good behavior and you will play that role, as long as the planet hangs in the balance. Every time you bring your Tiger Claw down you will remember just why you do this. Every time you resolve another fight, bring two people together, you will remember why.

You reach automatically for the picture you keep in your own bedroom, before remembering it isn't there.

It's a picture from an old newspaper article about Power Rangers. About the predecessors Gosei mentioned. Someday they will return; you know this. Someday, they will talk to your team, and you will take their leader aside and explain your fears about Gosei and your need for reinforcements or at the very least quickly-accessible weapons, and they will help, and the Megaforce Rangers will be one team among many.

And then you will walk away.

Jake will be heartbroken and angry and wonder where it came from. You will calmly and coldly inform him that it was a lie; that you tried to tell him; that when there was no other choice you did what you had to do and no more. Then you will walk away and start over, and build a life with no Jake or Power Rangers in it, because by that point you doubt you'll ever be able to look at a morpher again without the sickness in you rising.

The image is a comfort. Imagining a new life. You have forsaken Emma and Angel Grove and everything you ever had a right to; to rebuild would give you worth again.

You turn away from the mirror and go back to the bedroom. Jake is snoring peacefully. You slide into bed beside him. Where else would you sleep, if not with your boyfriend?

Before you fall asleep, a pink angel brushes into your mind.

But then the black takes you anyway.


End file.
